unhinged
by Johanna Klique
Summary: I gently slide my hand to sign my name on the paper that will confirm my daughter is their property, I hold back a sob when I make the last loop signaling the end of my signature. I look at what I have done with shame, but I know that it is what is best. At least that's what my husband said.
1. A signature of confirmation

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**DISCLAIMER: I do not own unwind, Neal Shusterman does, but I do own the characters that I made up.**

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I went to the front of that door with delicate movements, each sway of my arm, a gentle swipe, each step lightly taken, hardly making a indent in the plush carpet. I lean in towards the door to listen further to this conversation of my parents, my mom is making small sobs between each word and I couldn't help out of curiosity, to in investigate why she cries with despair embedded with each word.

My Dad soothingly tells her "This is what is best for her, she is just body parts, another burden ready to be lifted of our plate". My Mom stops sobbing but still, has dread embracing the sound of her voice when she responds with a small choke "Okay." I hear the familiar sound of pen against paper, making the smooth sound of when the ink is layed upon it, making swerves of delicacy. I love this sound, but not right now. This sound fills me with horror. Like lead instantly filled my pulsing veins.

I turn around and silently walk down the hallway with the glossy color of light evergreen. Each step is the pressure of realization and screaming terror pressing further in with the heavy slowness of my weight when in fact, my steps are very light. I turn, spinning on the balls of my feet and face the door which conceals whats inside my room. I take a deep breath, filling my lungs with what seems to be peircingly cold air and press my palm against the the doorknob sending little tingles onto my pale skin. I turn the doorknob with a sharp movement, open the door wide enough to fit in my body, and slip in as if I was liquid dripping into a drain. I close the door a little faster than I intended and go and sit on the lavender blanket spread out on my bed, fitting perfectly. Such perfection is most aggravating to me so I tear it off and sit back down on the now empty bed. I bend forward and put my face in my hands, with my red tinted brown hair hanging loosely, framing my face.

A tear filled with so many emotions slowly sinks down my face and eventually falls to the floor with a small splash.

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	2. Losing innocence

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I make sure that every step is quiet as they make contact with tiles leading to the back door. I reach out, touching the door knob lightly with the tips of my fingers. I am numb, I don't want to feel the sadness of leaving my childhood behind, I did enough of that the past few weeks.

I wrap my fingers tightly around the door knob, make a firm twist and open the door slowly trying to prevent the small but long squeak it always makes. I slip out, already feeling the cold spread on my face.

I walk, leaving the small imprints of my feet in the snow, quickly masked by the foot prints that were already there. I walk toward the forest and vanquish between the trees, as I always do.

I can't help but feel a sense of loss by every step I take, going further away from the people that decided I was just body parts.

I feel the tiny impact of the snowflakes as they land on my nose and smile slightly when they melt after meeting the warmth of my skin. I keep going over my plan, making sure I don't miss the tiniest details as they are important, I have had about two months to prepare which more than most unwinds.

I look up to see the eeri sillouette of the skeletal branches against the silvery light of the moon, swaying to the gentle beat of the wind.

"I am just a mixture of their genetics of which they where ashamed to have." It's a sad thought, but it's is also the truth which is what leaves the pain dwelling within my chest. "I honestly meant nothing to them." I feel a tear trickle down the soft curve of my cheek and wipe it away forcing myself to believe it was never there, I am certainly not weak enough to cry again.

I take a deep sigh and bring down my head, so it is situated as it was before. "It's wrong, all of it. What gives them the power to think they can take me apart? _Society." _I remind myself. "It just makes me angry, to think it's okay, to _encourage_ it. All those ads and commercials stating the false." But I know what actually makes me angry, it's that I didn't realize its cruelness until I experinced it for myself.

I remember, last year a boy named Ian was unwound, my teacher just said in her shrill voice "Ian won't be attending this school anymore." but everybody knew what had actually happened, he was just another unwind forgotten about in a week. I find myself thinking of him though, wondering if he ever thought that his friends missed him. They most likely forgot about him too, everyone does. Including myself. I will be forgotten as well.

I take notice to the wind soothingly whispering its way past me with light pressure, almost in a comforting way.

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	3. Denial

**Chad (Her dad.)**

I remember the perfect girl so many years ago, the little girl that would beg me to give her a piggy back ride, who would leave little thank you cards at random places, so we could find them years later. I can remember her little voice, sweet as honey, and the pink dress she loved so dearly. That little girl is gone now. Turned into a very,_very,_ different girl. I see her and all the things she did wrong rush to my mind. The stress was overpowering, I couldn't look at her any more, the shame was to immense.

"My own DNA rushed through her veins," the very thought was sickening.

It's hard to think of her as my daughter. "How could my daughter be like this?, this is not my perfect little girl I once had" I had thought to myself. So it was easy, so easy it was disturbing. I signed the paper quickly, "I am giving a better purpose to my DNA" I thought. I couldn't possibly see why Melissa cried so hard about it. We are doing the right thing I convince myself. But deep within me there was a a little glitch and it irritated me, it could ruin everything if it became a larger error, it was my own thought, just a single one, it said; "_Maybe this isn't right."_ I was terrified at even making such a suggestion to myself. So I buried it deeper and deeper in my mind so it wouldn't be able to rise again. I forgot it.

It was two days after the signing, I found it, lurking in a dusty old cupboard that looked as if it hadn't been opened in years. It was dusty, the envelope tinted slightly yellow from age. The front had little pink flowers drawn from crayon speckled all around her her kiddish hand writing that said:** To Mommy and Daddy**.

I opened the envelope and pulled out the white sheet with drawings of us together as a family, her little and holding both our hands. It had Flowers and stars drawn all around us and on the other side held her childish hand writing.

I didn't read it. I couldn't. I just couldn't. And yet, I held the paper with shock on my face, staring, just staring at our smiley faces. What we used to be. I folded it, gently slid it in its carefully decorated envelope, and put it back in the dusty cupboard. "I will forget it." I tell myself, but I know it will always be at the back of my mind in a ghostly way, trying to fight its way to the front of my thoughts.

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	4. Shifting thoughts

**Trevor**

**AWOL unwind**

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I hate this cabin. It's dingy, doesn't do much for warmth, and is falling apart. My eyelids are closed, attempting to get sleep which is pretty much impossible at the moment, because my thoughts get in the way. I give up on the failed attempt, it was pointless anyways.

I lean against my sister, listening to her steady breaths, and watch as the mist of carbon dioxide curl to evaporate in the chilling air.

I think back to what made us have to spend the night here in such an uncomfortable position in life. I wonder what part of us got us here. "Was it my sister smoking tranq in a small circle at a party, and me spraying, as I would say, art on an empty walls? Was it the ridiculous arguments me, my sister, and my parents would have? Or was it all? Did they sweep up all our bad deeds and decided just us as a whole was worthless and threw it in a recycling bin?" Either way, I am pissed off, with no way to let it out like I was able to before. "No matter what it was that got me and Leah here, you can't decide a human being is worthless and just have the choice to throw it away, or in this case, to recycle it without some consequence!" I think angrily at my self.

"Maybe they take it like the carbon dioxide escaping Leah's lips, they longed to let it go, and once they did, it eventually faded and they felt relief in drawing new oxygen in. Like, let out the bad and let in the new." These thoughts are suddenly interrupted by the creak of the shabby door. Adrenalin immediately fills my chest so I sit up in alert; Fear immobilizing my body and mind. I am scared as freaking hell. "It could be the Juvie cops. This could have been a trap. I should have thought this through, how idiotic I am. I am the most retarded person that could ever exist on the planet." But, to my surprise, when the door fully opens, a girl stands there, looking just as shocked as I am.

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